From time to time, when the boys act up and my fuse is particularly low, which – let’s face it – it sometimes is, especially during these trying times… then I end up using some very harsh words with time, in the vein of Amy Chua as described in Battle Hymm of the Tiger Mother. (I’m so relieved I am not the only hapless parent who has to threaten the stoppage of privileges / presents to eternity, and / or the only one with a child who answers back so defiantly!)

After a while, when tempers have calmed down, I often feel bad and regretful, and then I’ll go to find my boy(s), and apologise for my words, and say: “You know I didn’t mean it right? I was just so angry, and sometimes when I’m really angry, I say things I don’t mean. You know I love you right?”

The other day, after one such incident with Baby-F, and I went to talk to him and make peace before bedtime, and asked: “You know I love you right?”

He said, in a blasé manner: “Ya Mama. I know you love me. You say it like one thousand million times.”

And I know Big-Boy-O knows I love him too.

I’d rather say it too often than too little. I want to know, and feel loved, because this will give them strength and confidence.